


Bound in Blood and Magic

by poppinelle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppinelle/pseuds/poppinelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he dreams that she escaped the Circle Tower that day, along with all of the other innocent mages. In other dreams she had left the Tower long before Uldred unleashed his horrors. But Cullen's reality is a harsh one.</p><p>This is what happened in the world where Duncan never recruited the Circle Mage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound in Blood and Magic

Neria Surana was a pariah after Jowan’s escape. _Irving’s rat_ , one apprentice named her. _Can’t trust a knife ear_ , he heard another mage whisper in the library. His blood boiled at that and he clenched his fists; the mage gave him a sidelong look before scurrying out of the stacks before he could say anything. Cullen barely managed to choke down his anger on Surana’s behalf. 

The templars were no better. A team of hunters had been dispatched to track down the blood mage after the incident, and there was much grumbling in the sleeping quarters about it. Jowan had injured five brothers in his escape. The first three suffered more pride than bodily harm, but the two at the Tower door had fared far worse - the mage had become more desperate as the reality of his predicament dawned on him. Yet incredibly, in the days that followed his fellow knights directed their remaining animosity towards Neria. They blamed her for the blood mage’s escape. 

“Idiot girl,” muttered Beval. 

“Should have gone to Greagoir immediately,” answered the knight-captain, nodding in agreement.

Cullen half-heartedly tried to point out that Neria was doing what she thought was proper and acting under the First Enchanter’s orders, but he had barely formed the excuse when knight-lieutenant Annlise jumped down his throat.

“Stop thinking with your cock, boy, or you’ll get us all killed.”

Cullen turned scarlet and quieted after that. He knew his feelings for Neria were no longer a secret. His horror at being selected to watch over her Harrowing had only been compounded when Annlise let it slip that Greagoir had chosen him precisely because he knew of Cullen’s fondness for the quiet elven mage. He had been chewing on that revelation for days now. It seemed an unnecessarily cruel test, and he chastised himself for taking Annlise at her word. The knight-commander was a good man; he wouldn’t do such a thing on purpose-- even to prove a point. Right? 

Cullen was lost in his doubts when he came upon Neria in the hallway. He thought briefly about passing by her without pause, but she looked up from her shuffling before he could quicken his pace and their eyes locked. She looked miserable. Her eyes were all puffy and red, appearing more blue than green in the lamplight of the tower today. A few pieces of long dark hair fell across her face like a shield, not quite making it into the intricate plait on one side.The urge to tuck them behind her long ear stilled when she did it herself, wiping the corner of her eye as she did so. 

“I suppose you are angry with me as well,” she said bitterly.

Cullen’s tongue tripped over itself in his surprise and confusion at her accusation, and he successfully rendered himself mute. 

“Have you come here to tell me what a fool I was?” 

“What-- no-- I--” 

Her eyes narrowed, her anger bubbling over. “Or are you here to swoop in and soothe me with gentle assurances? I must look like easy prey, no friends and nothing left to lose. It would not take much effort to bed me now, would it?” 

All color fled his face. 

“That’s what you want from me, right? What more could you possibly want from a rabbit-eared mage?”

He stared back at her angry, contorted face and tried to reconcile it with the girl he knew. Cullen had never seen her like this before. In his mind, Neria always wore a gentle, knowing smile. Her face was always bright and welcoming; he would hear her laughter across the room and be greeted with shining eyes and a mischievous grin. She was not this bitter, broken creature before him. It was in that moment that Cullen realized he really had no idea who she was. He had built up this idea of Neria Surana in his head, admiring her from a distance, but in the past few months they’d barely exchanged more than a few words with one another. He had no idea what he actually wanted from her. 

Except perhaps, to see her smile once again.

She watched his face, her anger sliding off it into a look of defeat. “That’s what I thought,” she whispered hoarsely, moving to walk past him. Unthinkingly, he reached out to hold her back. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, both for the action as he jerked his hand back, and much more. “I’m sorry that this has happened to you. And I’m sorry if my attention makes you uncomfortable. I want-- I mean you no disrespect.”

Her eyes met his, and he had to steel himself not to look away. Hers had softened, and he saw more green in them now than he had mere moments ago. After another moment he lost his nerve and looked down to his feet to gather his thoughts. “I do not know you well, but you’ve made a great impression on me since I took my vows. I’ve seen you in your lessons and how you deal with the other apprentices and teach the younglings. You are smart, and good, and kind, and I-- I admire you for that. Some people see mages as--” _abominations, dangerous, a sin against the Maker,_ his mind unhelpfully supplied, thinking back to the words he’d heard scared villagers whisper in the pews.But she was none of those things, she was the good he had sworn to protect. From other people as well as demons, and apparently even himself.

He lost his nerve again, and the words caught in his throat. Instead, he decided to push on. “I want you to know I don’t see you that way. And this incident has proved it all beyond a doubt. You are a good person, Neria Surana. And I’m sorry if others cannot see that. I will not trouble you further, but I-- you should know that.” Cullen breathed in deeply, and nodded. “I should go,” he mumbled more to himself than her.

Neria scrutinized him through thick lashes and Cullen could feel himself heating up and turning red again. He nodded again awkwardly, and moved to walk past her. This time, it was her hand that shot out, stilling him. 

“I am probably a fool for many things, but I hope one isn’t for believing you.” She reached up on her tiptoes to peer at him eye-to-eye, and for a moment, Cullen swore that she was going to kiss him. Not a grand romantic kiss; just an innocent peck on the cheek. But her face fell and she rocked back on her heels, apparently thinking better of it. They both flustered and looked everywhere but at each other as Neria removed her hand from his shoulder and wrung it distractedly in front of her skirts. 

“Thank you, Ser Cullen.”

“It’s nothing, Enchanter Neria.” 

She smiled. “It’s everything.” 

\---

In the weeks that followed they found an easy rhythm with one another, nodding as they passed each other in the halls, and trading bemused glances as Cullen stood watch while Neria entertained young apprentices in the Great Hall. Slowly, her gentle smile returned, and he took great comfort in that, especially when he found himself on the receiving end of it. He was still attracted to her, _Maker, it was hard not to be_ , but he hoped over time it would wane and give way to the collegial friendliness that he’d seen between some older templars and enchanters. A partnership built on mutual respect and understanding. It was all he could hope for.

Neria continued to be shunned by a majority of the mages, but when some of the more experienced enchanters returned from the defeat at Ostagar she seemed to find a little more support. If Cullen had been a more experienced templar, or perhaps a more politically astute one, that may have served as a warning of what was to come. After all, wasn’t it just a bit odd that the mages who had remained at the Circle Tower had turned a cold shoulder to one of their own for turning in a blood mage? But Neria herself had written it off as the politics of us-versus-them, templar-versus-mage, and Cullen hadn’t thought to press her on it. 

On the day Uldred rebelled, Cullen and Neria were both in the library. He stood across from her desk, ostensibly surveying this end of the library while she carefully worked out alchemical formulas that he didn’t quite understand. 

She looked up, smiling as she caught him eyeing her work. “It’s a poultice recipe,” she explained merrily. “I am trying to work out the optimal ratios, but I think if I can get it just right, it should soothe burns while also repairing the skin as it cools it.”

“A handy thing in a Tower that often sees its occupants setting themselves on fire.” 

“Yes, well, you try learning how to literally fight fire with fire and see how well that goes. Maker, we should really alter that training exercise,” she mumbled. 

He chuckled at that and let her return to her work. Within a few moments she was lost in careful thought again, absently brushing her feather pen against her lips. If she kept at it, she was going to make herself sneeze, he mused.

There was a loud crash outside the doors of the library, and they both startled, looking instantly at one another. 

“Owain’s usually so careful with the supplies,” she offered warily. 

Cullen nodded, trying to steal his rattled nerves. “I’ll go check to make sure everything’s alright.” 

Before he’d even reached the door, it became very clear that everything was not alright. Loud screams and unholy shrieks erupted on the other side, and the door burst open to a scene of demons and blood spattered mages. It took Cullen more than a few seconds to realize that the mages still standing were not injured, but rather were drawing energy from the blood of their fallen compatriots. Before he knew it, his sword was out of its scabbard and he was rushing forward. 

“Neria!” He shouted as a warning, and she and a few other mages scrambled behind him. He turned and spared her a glance only to realize that he had no shield and the mages behind him had no staves. With the company of hunters still out chasing after Jowan and the men they had lost at Ostagar, he was the only knight on duty in the library. 

A wave of rage demons bubbled up from the cold stone tiles of the library suddenly, and Neria shouted to the other enchanters to coordinate frost attacks. Without staves, their spells were weaker and less focused, but Cullen could see and feel that at least her handiwork was still effective in slowing the demons. 

He blocked and parried, waiting until she managed to freeze them solid before coming down hard with his blade. The first demon shattered into hundreds of pieces as he swung through it, a satisfying feeling that fueled the adrenaline and lyrium coursing through his veins. They worked as a team with him drawing the demons away from the mages as she guided the group in chipping away at the demon’s rage and fire. Cullen could feel her altering the nature of the demon’s manifestation on this plane-- as if she herself was the balm she had been working on only moments earlier. He dared not counter the magic in the room with his own dispelling abilities for fear of snuffing hers out. 

The blood mages entered after the first wave and called out for the enchanters and apprentices to lay down their spells and join them. Much to his relief, the library patrons chose to fight on instead. A blood mage felled one of their number, and the second wave of demons took down two more. 

He managed to cut down three more demons before the blood mages surrounded them. He tried to block off their magic now, but a demon of sloth had worn down his energies enough that he could no longer cut them off from the Fade. Neria and two apprentices sheltered behind him, but now they were outnumbered, with four armed enchanters closing in. 

“Give us the elf, and we will let the rest of you walk.” 

Cullen knew it was a lie, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of their request. He would fight to protect any of his charges, but Neria was the one person he would certainly never give up. He had no qualms about dying to save her. But of course, dying now would accomplish nothing - he had to see them all safely out of the Circle Tower. 

To his surprise and horror, Neria moved forward of her own volition. He held out his arm to try to stop her. She pushed past him anyway, and he shot her a pained look. 

“They will kill you,” he pleaded. 

“What choice do I have?” she asked, smiling sadly and moving forward. The blood mages chuckled, one of their number making a remark about ‘the templar’s whore’ and Cullen nearly lunged at that. But she turned back to face him, making a placating gesture with her hands, and continued towards the mages. 

Just as the last tiny shred of hope was leaving him, Cullen felt a surge of mana in the room; Neria hit the ground with her fist, calling down a storm of lightning on the smug maleficarum. The apprentices behind him flinched, and he shielded them with his body to protect them from the deadly bolts. 

But Neria’s spellwork was precise and controlled despite her lack of staff, and she managed to fell all four of her marks. She rose slowly, shaky with exhaustion, and smiled beautifully when she saw that she had succeeded in her gambit. 

Cullen scrambled forward to help her only to be thrown back violently. A tall, bald man had entered the room with more mages, sending Cullen back against a bookcase like a ragdoll with a flick of his hand. Dimly, he recognized the man as Uldred, the senior enchanter that often helped Greagoir and Irving root out blood mages, and some small part of his brain held out hope that it was all just a misunderstanding and that the mage was there to help. Instead Cullen watched, frozen and helpless as the enchanter advanced on Neria, speaking in soft but menacing tones. With her mana completely depleted, she tried to strike him with her hand, but the enchanter caught her arm and twisted it at a most unnatural angle. 

The screams reverberating throughout the tower would haunt him for the rest of his days, but none were so terrible as hers when they dragged her away. 

They left him and the apprentices for dead, but he somehow found the will to stand and fight the remaining demons as the spell wore off. He ordered the surviving young mages to hide themselves, and charged out of the library. He had to fight. It was his duty. He had to protect the Tower. _He had to protect her_. 

He found her immediately. In fact, he found her several times. A sloth demon that promised that she was safe. A despair demon that showed him that she could never love him. A desire demon that took her form and ran to him, crying with joy that they were both alive. He’d taken her in his arms, only for a small part of his brain to register that her eyes were too vivid a green and her teeth bared more widely than usual as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him. And between those encounters he watched as demons tortured his Templar brothers and sisters and the innocent mages. 

Uldred’s lackeys tried to control the demons but failed, and Cullen saw the last few moments of knight-lieutenant Annlise’s life ebb out of her as a blood mage drained it to try to save himself. Cullen shoved a sword in the man’s back, but it was too late for the knight-lieutenant.

Finally, he found the real Neria Surana on the floor outside of the Harrowing Chamber, limp and glassy-eyed and bone white. He held her in his arms, his fingers woven tight in her long black hair as he cradled her head, trying to shake some kind of response out of her through his sobs.

He was too late. She was gone. 

He didn’t even notice when the blood mages succeeded in caging him. By the time the Grey Wardens arrived he had cried and yelled himself to near madness from grief and anger. He had failed to protect them. To protect her. The mages were abominations, dangerous, sins against the Maker. There was no good left in the Circle Tower anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely [Dulcidyne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcidyne/pseuds/Dulcidyne) for her incredibly helpful feedback and just general awesomeness. 
> 
> Comments pretty much make my day, so I hope I haven't ruined yours with all the angst.


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